still here
by qweety
Summary: Her lips brush against his jaw, hand crawling down to unbutton his jeans. She giggles, and climbs on top of him, worries thrown out of his apartment window. shameful catherine/vincent smut.


_weird au where vincent is single but catherine is always still hanging around when vincents wants someone to feel him up i guess_

_also this is my first like serious + lengthy smut feel free to hmu with constructive criticism_

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_would you be mine? would you be my baby, tonight?_

_could be kissing my fruit punch lips in the bright sunshine,_

_'cause i like you quite a lot, everything you got, don't you know?_

_it's you that i adore, though i make the boys fall like dominoes._

_- lolita, by lana del rey_

Vincent was at the Stray Sheep, sitting at the regular booth where the crew met up. He brings his glass, the usual rum and coke, to his lips and he swallows. He shivers, the caffeinated buzz traveling throughout his spine and whole entire body. Vincent feels a hardness coming through his jeans and underwear, and he groans, hands covering up his face in embarrassment. A familiar, smooth voice whispers in his ear, and a tired, worn out huff comes from the almost broken booth seat. "You want me to help you with that?"

He turns his head to face her, a tongue running over her baby pink lips slowly. Her sky blue eyes, adorned by the matching eyeshadow, follow the fine shadows of Vincent's neck and collarbone, and she gives him a tight lipped smile. The black haired male blinks and the blonde rolls her eyes and grabs his wrist, pressing it against her curves and he gives her hips an experimental squeeze. She teases him by grinding against him, but pulls herself away to be his eye candy.

This girl was stunning. Lacy white dress, short enough to reveal but long enough to show off just the right amount. Her bra straps are slowly slipping off of her pale shoulders. It was Vincent's time to look, now. Her dress is hugging her curves, the choker an innocent yet bold accessory. His head is spinning, whirling, a sensation that alcohol or a beating could never accomplish.

She places her hand on his thigh, a coquette gesture. Her fingernails tap against the denim of his jeans, and she rubs his leg, taking her oh-so-sweet time. She slides out from the booth, showing off her smooth legs and fairly large silk bow tied around her waist. The girl pulls the black haired man's collar and drags him out, leaving his drink at the table, ice chunks beginning to melt underneath the light. The door to the Stray Sheep bar rings as the two head out, and she presses her lips against his cheek, giving him a sweet kiss that puts him into a sort of trance.

"Gotta car?" She asks, patting down his pockets to hear a lump and feel a jingle in there. Her fingers wrap around the plastic cover of the keys and she presses a button, walking around the parking lot. It was beginning to get dark, the bright blue hues of the morning sky melting into cool tones of night, a bit of oranges, pinks, and reds in the middle.

Perky white heels click against the coal cement, Vincent too deep in his drunken stupor to fully function. His car lights flash and a beep came from it, and she rushes to get to the run down machine. The paint is about to chip off from overuse, one light broken and windows covered with bird droppings. The blonde cringes and she throws the messy haired man into the passenger seat and she gets in as well, putting the key in the ignition.

"Mmm… Katherine…" Vincent slurs, head drooping low and pale cheeks flushed.

Catherine's foot steps on the pedal and after pulling the lever on the automatic transmission. The engines roar and she speeds off to his apartment, trying her best to remember his address from all of the frequent visits in the past.

They get there, dark shadows of trees, bushes, and other cars zooming past Vincent's eyes, and the car comes to a violent halt, wheels screeching against the parking lot cement. Catherine searches his pockets again for the keys to his apartment room, as she enters the elevator with Vincent's arm over her shoulder. He was about to collapse, but could almost make it through the elevator ride, breath becoming heavier and warm as the floors increase.

Surprisingly nobody entered the elevator while the two were in there, four walls almost slowly inching to become closer the longer the couple stayed there. The black haired man topples over when the final ring of the elevator occurs, doors separating to reveal a hallway and many doors. Catherine takes a quick glance at his room number from his keys, and she runs to the end of the corridor, almost out of breath. The blue eyed girl fiddles with the lock a bit and the door creaks open, and she shoves him in and promptly shuts and locks the door.

"Wha—"

"Shh." She puts a finger to his lips and he gives a half whine, something that a thirty-something year old should not do.

Catherine leads him to the bed, as small as it is, and she lays him down on the white sheets, kissing him and cupping his face in between her hands along the way. She tastes like whipping cream, sweet and it feels very unhealthy.

Vincent, with many things preoccupying in his mind, could only oblige by rolling along with it, tongues colliding together in a frenzy and hands roaming Catherine's body, fingertips rubbing small circles on her back, and she bucks her hips against his pelvis. This was good, oh, so, very good. Catherine gets off of him and pulls a condom packet from her bra, wherever she got that from in the first place, Vincent didn't know. He groans and runs a hand through his messy curls, and she returns to him, lips brushing against his jaw, hand crawling down to unbutton his jeans. She giggles, and climbs on top of him, worries thrown out of his apartment window.

Vincent's belt and pants? Completely gone, kicked off and thrown out in some corner of the room. Catherine plays around with the man's boxers, nails softly scraping against the skin that was underneath. She was avoiding where he needed to be touched, and in some strange place in the back of his head, he enjoyed it to an extent. That doesn't mean the straining bulge through his underwear enjoys it, though.

Catherine slides off his boxers and her mouth curls into a delicate smile, going down on him to slowly wrap her lips around his length. Her hot tongue glides over the head, and she reaches down to feel herself through her panties. She presses a finger inside of her, and it feels weird, but in a good way. Her other hand is grabbing Vincent's thigh, head bobbing as delicious wet noises reach his ears. She removes her lips with a pop, thin line of spit coming from her tongue and his shaft.

Sinful, is what it was, but Vincent loves it, huffing when Catherine stops with what she's doing. No, she wasn't done with him yet, ripping open the condom package and rolling it onto his length. He was soft, but his hardness regained itself when the blonde stripped down to nothing but lingerie bra and panties. Vincent shudders as he looks up, and shes on top of him now, grinding down on his hips. He feels the moistness of her underwear, trying to subtly take it off for her.

Vincent's fingers are tingling when he touches her bosom, blushing as he feels the shape around his hands. Catherine purrs into his ear and swats his hands away. "No touching yet!"

She rides him and it feels like hours, her bra fully undone and straps gliding off of her shoulders. Catherine quickly removes it and she's completely naked now, with only Vincent wearing his pink shirt, but only to be tossed somewhere afterwards. Her juices drip on top of his stomach, fluids warm. The bed stops creaking and she crawls into bed with him, discarding the rubber condom and throwing the sheets over them, sweaty and still warm with the soothing afterglow.

Vincent shuts the lamp on his nightstand off, and he doesn't regret a single thing. The taste of Catherine's sweetness and the alcohol continues to linger in his mouth after his wake.

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_i feel like writing a johnny/vincent thing or an orlando/vincent rhing next help me_


End file.
